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Array ( [sid] => 141513 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Apples [time] => 2008-04-11 07:34:59 [hometext] => [bodytext] => A foul odor staining an already tainted mind;
This eldritch suffocation leaves me distant, deaf, and blind.
Too long have I fell victim to the other worldly lie,
That fickle fascination of my Third Intrepid Eye.

For ten and seven years of drowning slow within the storm
My soul decays at record pace; to hell am I forlorn?
This throne of thorns from whence I sat has bled my body dry;
A candid search through somber tales, from sea to clouded sky.

A journey there, behind the shroud, beyond the castle wall,
Where once the withered Lords of Mist fell victim to His fall.
The kingdom claimed the name of Dis, a foul wretchèd place,
Where sin and lust had run amok, with bitter sweet embrace.

I tossed and turned, through burning flames, to find what I had sought;
I jogged and walked and ran with haste, yet all was made for naught.
Each step I took beyond those doors, that blackened gothic gate,
Had lead me no foot further, though I saw the rank estate.

Its high held walls of malice and its towers wrought of pain.
The dire screams of destiny had crippled all the sane.
The mad, the warped and twisted minds, the brilliant and the crazed
Had all found refuge in this town while I intently gazed.

I stood afoot an abbey forged of smoldered stone and flame
And there upon its stairway sat the reason, doubt, and blame.
A man so withered, ripe with age, that barely he could stand;
That old decrepit fool who spoke and outstretched forth his hand.

“Welcome, sir, the living man, to seas of fecund death
This being first of many trips through lands too faint of breath
I have a hint, or prophecy, if that is more preferred
But listen close and never waver, heed my every word.

“If you would but lend an ear to hear what I must say
Then on this road you, this path you take, this frail and twisted way,
Keep stalwart eyes upon the gate that guards the castle Dis;
For any quiver beckons forth to Hell’s forlorn abyss.”

From there I marched with quickness and conviction still in line,
I traveled past each passerby, each devil spawned of false divine.
Without a glance, without a look, no turn or pause or rest,
I made for wayward distant paths though seemingly possessed.

My eyes had made no waver as I stalked each shadowed stone
Until I noticed, over yonder, she who sat alone.
The only spot of joy amongst a realm of pain and strife
Where nature spawned a wild tree, so lush and full of life.

Upon the grassy circle sat a woman pure as light,
The only candle lit betwixt this land of deadened night.
Her mien was one of whitened doves, constrained within a cage.
Surrounding darkness forged the curtain for her brilliant stage.

My eyes could not keep off her; my feet had stayed their pace;
My pulse beat loud within my breast, too strong for any grace.
An angel, she may well have been, or god in human form
For beauty never seen before had churned such vibrant storm.

I calmly strode with careful step across the cobbled stead;
Toward the place where beauty rests its stalwart silent head.
She basked within the moonlight that protruded through the night
The sinful, somber masking of these hellish lands of fright.

She lay a prize for gilded men of weakened heart and mind,
Whilst evanescent reason left the reason to the blind.
I must admit that in my pause, the sight that drew me in,
I faltered fast when then I heard her burning violin.

Though warned by death in gravest form, desire overcame;
The siren’s call had bore a spark that birthed a poisoned flame.
What lies beyond the blackened gate of Dis’ wilted stone,
The answer I shall never find, the secrets never known.
[comments] => 1 [counter] => 170 [topic] => 13 [informant] => gravehorn [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
Apples

Contributed by gravehorn on Friday, 11th April 2008 @ 07:34:59 AM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry



A foul odor staining an already tainted mind;
This eldritch suffocation leaves me distant, deaf, and blind.
Too long have I fell victim to the other worldly lie,
That fickle fascination of my Third Intrepid Eye.

For ten and seven years of drowning slow within the storm
My soul decays at record pace; to hell am I forlorn?
This throne of thorns from whence I sat has bled my body dry;
A candid search through somber tales, from sea to clouded sky.

A journey there, behind the shroud, beyond the castle wall,
Where once the withered Lords of Mist fell victim to His fall.
The kingdom claimed the name of Dis, a foul wretchèd place,
Where sin and lust had run amok, with bitter sweet embrace.

I tossed and turned, through burning flames, to find what I had sought;
I jogged and walked and ran with haste, yet all was made for naught.
Each step I took beyond those doors, that blackened gothic gate,
Had lead me no foot further, though I saw the rank estate.

Its high held walls of malice and its towers wrought of pain.
The dire screams of destiny had crippled all the sane.
The mad, the warped and twisted minds, the brilliant and the crazed
Had all found refuge in this town while I intently gazed.

I stood afoot an abbey forged of smoldered stone and flame
And there upon its stairway sat the reason, doubt, and blame.
A man so withered, ripe with age, that barely he could stand;
That old decrepit fool who spoke and outstretched forth his hand.

“Welcome, sir, the living man, to seas of fecund death
This being first of many trips through lands too faint of breath
I have a hint, or prophecy, if that is more preferred
But listen close and never waver, heed my every word.

“If you would but lend an ear to hear what I must say
Then on this road you, this path you take, this frail and twisted way,
Keep stalwart eyes upon the gate that guards the castle Dis;
For any quiver beckons forth to Hell’s forlorn abyss.”

From there I marched with quickness and conviction still in line,
I traveled past each passerby, each devil spawned of false divine.
Without a glance, without a look, no turn or pause or rest,
I made for wayward distant paths though seemingly possessed.

My eyes had made no waver as I stalked each shadowed stone
Until I noticed, over yonder, she who sat alone.
The only spot of joy amongst a realm of pain and strife
Where nature spawned a wild tree, so lush and full of life.

Upon the grassy circle sat a woman pure as light,
The only candle lit betwixt this land of deadened night.
Her mien was one of whitened doves, constrained within a cage.
Surrounding darkness forged the curtain for her brilliant stage.

My eyes could not keep off her; my feet had stayed their pace;
My pulse beat loud within my breast, too strong for any grace.
An angel, she may well have been, or god in human form
For beauty never seen before had churned such vibrant storm.

I calmly strode with careful step across the cobbled stead;
Toward the place where beauty rests its stalwart silent head.
She basked within the moonlight that protruded through the night
The sinful, somber masking of these hellish lands of fright.

She lay a prize for gilded men of weakened heart and mind,
Whilst evanescent reason left the reason to the blind.
I must admit that in my pause, the sight that drew me in,
I faltered fast when then I heard her burning violin.

Though warned by death in gravest form, desire overcame;
The siren’s call had bore a spark that birthed a poisoned flame.
What lies beyond the blackened gate of Dis’ wilted stone,
The answer I shall never find, the secrets never known.




Copyright © gravehorn ... [ 2008-04-11 07:34:59]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Apples (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Wednesday, 16th April 2008 @ 11:13:54 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Remarkable peice of writting, very compelling
and absorbing, well done . . .


thanks for your read and comment.


Ben




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